


ouch

by ifloveistheanswer



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifloveistheanswer/pseuds/ifloveistheanswer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock faces adversity during breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ouch

**Author's Note:**

> titles have never been my strong suit...

When faced with even the most abstract of Jim’s early morning musings, Spock has always done an admirable job maintaining his “never flex any muscles involved with expressions” policy. So when Jim makes an off-handed comment about changing cologne brands and Spock actually flinches, even squeezing his eyes shut for a fraction of a second, Jim is thrown for quite a loop.

"Wh-what? Is cologne taboo to Vulcans or something?"

Spock takes a good few more seconds to smooth his features back into their default state and formulate an answer. His words come out weird… stilted, like he’s talking with his teeth halfway gritted. “Not so,” he manages, and although he’s a master at bluffing, Jim’s experienced enough to call it. The fact that Spock didn’t expatiate on the reasons Vulcans aren’t offended by cologne—why, that’s just silly—is enough to raise suspicions.

"Are… you okay?"

A single crease appears between angular brows for the briefest of moments. “Quite.”

"So what was that face for?"

Air is audibly forced through Spock’s nostrils, and Jim can tell that his first officer would really rather not talk about whatever it is suddenly has him so brusque. So of course, Jim’s going to get to the bottom of it.

"I cannot help the fact that I have a face any more than you could—" The impudent non-answer is cut off by a reprise of the flinch and squint.

"What? What is it, Spock? Are you hurt?" Jim is already on his feet and flitting over to Spock’s side, hovering his hands over stiff shoulders as if to telepathically discern Spock’s source of discomfort. "What happened?"

Spock sighs again and turns away from his captain, though not quickly enough to hide the olive color leaping to his cheeks. Is he… embarrassed?

"I," he starts slowly. "I confess I spent… an unadvisable amount of my designated resting time working instead last night, and in my compromised state, I misjudged the positioning of my teeth and cut the inside of my cheek while eating my salad. And then again in the same spot, while discussing the state of my face."

It’s too early in the morning for Jim’s inner Spock-to-Standard translating mechanism to be working at full speed. “…You’re tired from staying up too late and you bit your mouth while zoning out?”

Even with Spock’s face turned away, Jim sees a tendon in Spock’s neck tense. Spock is probably grimacing, inasmuch as Spock ever grimaces.

"Vulcans… do not ‘zone out,’ Captain."

It’s probably one of the weakest rebuttals Spock’s ever offered, but again, it’s early enough in the morning that Jim allows it to slip. After all, he’d hate to rope Spock into more banter that might lead to a third incident.

"I see, Mr. Spock. Well… take it easy."


End file.
